Going deeper, the tunnel gets tighter and tighter, and where you could walk shoulder to shoulder before, you are now forced into single file. The fetid air gets thicker still and a grogginess clouds your mind. As the world judders and your vision swims, a scuffling noise catches your attention. As you raise your torch to look ahead, the darkness disgorges terror. Fiends you have fought and things you have only seen in your nightmares, slither and crawl toward you. Looking at your skin, you see every wound and scar you have ever suffered split open, tearing your flesh anew and spilling your lifeblood upon the earth. Your attempts to fell the creatures are useless as your weapons pass cleanly through them. They appear by the hundreds and within moments, the darkness envelops you.

In the black, an ethereal weightlessness takes hold. Memories swirl in your mind.

You are already dead. Your funeral was long ago. The night before you set out on the Wire to take the Oath, a pyre was lit for you. There you cut all ties and bonds to your old life and took on the name of 'aspirant'. You spent a day and a night in the Deepwood to get to the Oathstone. The journey that kills so many did not deter you and you found the stone circle. There HE waited for you and an Oath was spoken.